


Coming Home: Short Works

by Karis_Artemisia_Judith



Series: Coming Home [4]
Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: F/M, Family, Family Feels, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-28 08:45:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2726063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karis_Artemisia_Judith/pseuds/Karis_Artemisia_Judith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>drabbles that fit into the Coming Home series, set after 'The Sun's Gift'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bedtime Story

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of ['Coming Home'](http://karis-the-fangirl.tumblr.com/post/90407926464/coming-home-a-kristanna-collaboration), a collaborative series of fics by various writers. The series began with [jenniferjuni-per](http://tmblr.co/mqrk33Gbm-C-9msXru7-feA)'s '[Don't Look Back](http://jenniferjuni-per.tumblr.com/post/87678401652/frozen-kristoff-week-day-3).

"Kristoff."

He groaned and buried his face deeper into the pillow.

“ _Kristoff_.”

She poked him, and he started to roll over, but then small body plopped down on his chest. 

"Papa,  _please_ wake up!”

His eyes cracked open, and he found himself staring down into two sets of pleading eyes, one blue and one brown. The shaded lamp that burned as a nightlight cast a soft, warm glow over the faces of his wife and daughter and made the tear tracks on the little girl’s face glisten. He sat up with a faint grunt, trying not to yawn, concern slowly pushing down exhaustion. 

"What is it? What happened?"

"Sunniva had a nightmare. She needs to hear a story. But," Anna added, her lips quirking, "a Mama story won’t do, apparently."

"I want a  _Papa_  story.” The little girl pressed her chubby hands together, looking for all the world like a cherub as her rumpled tangle of red curls made a halo around her round face. “Please, Papa?”

Kristoff rubbed a hand over his face, shoving back his own sleep-matted hair. He couldn’t for the life of him understand why Sunniva preferred  _his_  stories to Anna’s—Anna was by far the better storyteller, she made faces and did voices and acted things out—but the preference had stuck. He reached out to gently wipe the tear stains from his daughter’s soft cheek and then wrapped an arm around her, bringing her close to his chest. His other arm wrapped around Anna, who didn’t need any encouragement to settle herself against his shoulder. 

"Okay. A story.  _One_  story.” He thought for a minute. “Well, there was once…um…there was once a reindeer.”

"Named Lilly."

"I—okay. Fine. There was a reindeer named Lilly, and she lived in the forest."

"On the mountain."

"In the forest on the mountain. And she didn’t have a father or a mother—"

"Because they were eaten by wolves?"

"Maybe, I suppose. But Lilly was all alone. And then one day she met a little girl."

"Was the girl a princess?"

"Ye-es. Yes, of course she was. A very beautiful princess."

"A  _smart_  princess.”

Kristoff chuckled. “Yes, a smart princess. And a clever princess. And brave. And she was walking in the woods—”

"Was she alone?"

"She was for the moment."

"But did she have a father and mother?"

"Yes, she did, and they loved her very much, but they had gotten lost."

"Ooooh." The tone suggested that this was the sort of thing that was very likely to happen to parents. "And the princess had to find them and lead them home?"

"Probably. But first she met Lilly."

With Sunniva’s prompting, the imaginary princess befriended the orphaned reindeer, thwarted a band of ‘scary, ugly’ bandits, visited the trolls for tea, and then finally found her beleaguered parents and led them home, riding her new companion. Lilly the reindeer was given her very own stall in the castle stable, and was adopted by Sven, who was pronounced a suitable papa.

Kristoff’s voice grew softer and softer as he felt Anna’s head loll limply against his shoulder, and Sunniva’s breathing grow deep and even against his chest. He let the story trail off, but the little girl stirred.

 ”H’ply ev’ ‘fter,” she mumbled. “You have to say it.”

"And they lived happily ever after," he promised, bending his head to kiss her hair as she relaxed, already asleep again. 


	2. Birth Day

"Sir Kristoff?" The midwife’s assistant poked her head out of the door. "You can come in now!"

In the bedroom the first intense bustle of activity had died down, and maids were bundling away the soiled sheets, leaving the group around the bed to enjoy a little privacy. Kristoff approached, swallowing hard, feeling relief flood through him as Anna smiled up at him.

"Kristoff, come and see! Here—" She pushed him down to sit on the edge of the bed and laid a little bundle of blankets in his arms. "What do you think?" Anna asked, perching beside him and leaning her head on his shoulder.

He stared down at the pink little face. “Beautiful,” he said softly, lifting a finger to stroke the soft, soft cheek. “She’s beautiful, Beata.”

"Thank you, Papa." His daughter smiled wearily from her place against the pillows. Her red-gold hair was damp against her forehead, and she had a tight grip on her husband’s hand, but she was beaming all the same. The young man at her side actually looked the worse of the two, Kristoff thought. He was pale, his hair a tangled mess, and his eyes followed the baby anxiously, as if he were afraid someone would drop her. But his arm was wrapped warmly around Beata’s shoulders and she leaned contentedly against him.

There was the sound of pounding feet and the door burst open, letting in a small whirlwind of blue skirts and flying red braids. “Bea! You couldn’t have waited until I got back from riding? I thought these things took ages!”

"Having a baby doesn’t exactly work on a timetable, Sunni," Anna laughed. "Sometimes it happens quickly, and there’s no stopping it."

“ _Still_.” At seventeen, Sunniva was the very image of the young princess that had changed Kristoff’s world forever—the same quick smile, the same vibrant hair. The only difference was her sparkling eyes, brown instead of blue, and fixed at the moment on the blanket in her father’s arms. “Let me see, let me see!” She peered down at the baby. “She’s all squished looking!”

"Sunni!"

"Well, she  _is_. But she’s nice. I like her,” Sunniva declared, and bent over to give the baby a kiss.

"So glad to have your approval," Beata said wryly. "We were considering sending her back."

"You’re welcome." Sunniva plopped down on the bed, then hesitated, biting her lip. "Can I hold her?"

"Of course. Here—like this." Kristoff reluctantly surrendered his granddaughter to her aunt, showing Sunniva how to support the baby’s head.

"Where’s your brother?" Elsa asked, getting up from her seat at the bedside to look out of the window.

"Kris? I left him behind halfway back. He’s no fun anymore. He and his  _fiancée_  are slow-pokes.”

"Not  _that_  slow.” The young man at the door paused to share a grin with his twin sister. “Okay, Bea, you win. But we’ll have the  _next_  one first.” Kris threw a casual arm around the waist of the slim, dark woman beside him, and she blushed a vivid pink.

Beata snorted. “You’d better hurry up and get married, then,” she said. “Come see your niece before Sunni kisses her to death.”

Kristoff moved back to make room for his son on the edge of the bed. Mathilda hung back shyly, and he gave her a gentle, encouraging nudge. Her face lit up when Sunni pulled her down to sit and put the baby into her arms.

At the foot of the bed, Kristoff leaned against the tall bedpost and watched his children, bicker amiably about who the baby most resembled, and who she liked best. His wife came to stand beside him and wrap her arms around his waist. He hugged her close, kissing her hair. There were a few strands of white beginning to thread their way through the copper strands, and laughter lines crinkled at the corner of her eyes as she smiled up at him. He knew that there were wrinkles on his own face, too, and white through his beard and at his temples.

"How do you feel, Grandpapa?"

"Grateful," he said, and kissed her.

"Ugh, aren’t you old people tired of doing that yet?" Sunniva demanded.

"Just wait until you find someone you want to kiss for the rest of your life," Anna told her, and stood on tiptoe to kiss Kristoff again.

"Well, stop for a minute. Now that we’re all here, Beata can tell us the baby’s name!"

Beata reached out to gather the little bundle close to her chest. “Everyone, meet Sigrid. But,” she added, “we’re going to call her Siri. Siri…this is your family.”


End file.
